


face it! you're never gonna make it!

by robinauts



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blue Gatorade as a minor character, F/F, M/M, Pining, Sibling Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinauts/pseuds/robinauts
Summary: Beau's got the worst crush ever on her annoying older sibling's super cool best friend. An afternoon spent pining.





	face it! you're never gonna make it!

Track practice was cancelled, so Beau is sprawled on the couch, wrist-deep into a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, when the front door opens.

“HEY ASSHOLE,” she yells.

“HEY YOURSELF,” Molly yells back. “IS GUSTAV HOME?”

“NAH.”

“IS JESTER HOME?”

“NAH, SHE’S GOT MARCHING BAND SHIT.”

“OH YEAH.”

Their greetings thus exchanged, she slouches against the cushions, already focusing back on Twitter. Dairon just posted a video of her freerunning on the school roof, which is tight as hell and sick as fuck.

Then she listens, and realizes that the regular sounds of Molly shutting the door, kicking his ridiculous boots off, and wandering into the kitchen are accompanied by an additional set of footsteps.

Her whole body seizes up like she just got struck by a lightning bolt or some shit.

Oh my god. _Oh my god._

She stands on suddenly shaky legs. God, _she_ comes over and it’s like Beau’s never ran a marathon in her life. She breathes in, breathes out, and sidles over to the kitchen. Casually, _so_ casually, she leans against the door frame. Nonchalantly, she lifts her gaze.

Six foot four of Amazonian goddess is staring into the fridge at Beau’s hoard of Gatorade, her wild, incredible mane of hair perfectly tossed over her broad, strong shoulders.

 _Yasha._ Her older sibling’s best friend who’s super hot and really nice and way too good for him. Beau’s very secret and stupidly intense crush; a year above her in age, a foot above her in height, and head and shoulders above anyone else in their entire high school. She’s got her backpack slung over one shoulder and she’s wearing this tank top with this super metal bloody skull on it and these ripped black jeans that fit her really well, and good god, Beau always thought goth shit was stupid before she met her (mostly because Molly was into it, she won’t lie), but every time she sees her she re-evaluates everything she ever thought about ravens and eyeliner and My Chemical Romance and black lipstick and _god her biceps are so hot--_

“Do you _need_ something, Beau?” Molly says snidely, grabbing a third can of LaCroix for his snack haul and breaking her reverie.

“Nah,” she replies, trying to sound breezy and unaffected by the _vision_ in front of her, running a hand through her hair. “Just thought y’all had rehearsal today, s’all.”

“Shorthalt is sick or something,” Molly says, making a face. “If you ask me, he’s probably just day drinking again and didn’t want to stay at school. Crew rehearsal got cancelled too because fuck the show in a month I guess, so Yasha’s here. Hope you don’t mind,” he adds, pointedly angling an eyebrow at her. An eyebrow that she very much ignores.

“Cool cool cool,” she mutters, then switches her attention to _her._ “Hey, uh, Yasha? You can have, like, whichever flavors of Gatorade you want, I don’t mind. Except the blue, that’s my lucky flavor.”

Yasha leans back so she can see Beau from behind the fridge door. Beau is lucky she’s leaning against the wall because she’d probably be melting to the ground since she always forgets just how incredible Yasha’s eyes are and right now they are looking _right at her._

“Oh,” Yasha says. “That’s… um. Blue is my favorite. Sorry. I’ll...”

“No no no!” Beau blurts out, hands waving frantically. “I mean, I have _so much_ blue since it’s my lucky flavor, I have _so much_ of it that uh, it’s cool if you take as much as you want! Go nuts, I won’t even notice!”

A smile tugs at one corner of Yasha’s mouth, and Beau can’t help grinning big and goofy back at her. She runs her fingers through her hair again so she looks casual. Casual and cool and collected. Yasha says, “I’m... glad to hear that.”

Molly cracks open one of his LaCroixes pointedly and she can _hear_ the eye roll in the carbonation but she very determinedly ignores him, because he is _not_ going to fuck this up for her. “Yeah! It’s cool that, like, we like the same flavor, y’know? Not everyone likes blue. So it’s cool that we, y’know, have that in common.”

Yasha’s head bobs in a nod, her bushel of hair bouncing with the movement. God, she is _so_ cool. “Yes, I… agree. Blue is. Good.” She clears her throat, and sets a bottle of Gatorade on the counter. “It’s... the same color as your eyes.”

“Yeah!” Beau says, in what definitely isn’t a squeak. Casual, cool, collected. “Yeah, huh! Yeah, I guess my eyes _are,_ like, the same color as blue Gatorade! That’s wild! I never noticed that!” Her heart is trying to pound out of her chest right now, what the fuck. _Yasha’s been looking at her eyes? Since when?_

Yasha goes back to rummaging through the fridge, and Beau has to strain to hear what she says next because she’s saying it to a bag of baby carrots. “Maybe… maybe that’s why it’s your lucky flavor…?”

Beau is _so glad_ Yasha has her nose stuck in the fridge so she can’t see the dumb expression that’s probably plastered on her face. “Well, then maybe you should definitely drink as much as you want, so you get the luck? Or maybe--”

She’s interrupted by Molly whining _“Yashaaaa…”_ in the same way he whines _Beauuuuuu_ when he wants her to do a physically intensive chore for him, like mowing the lawn or taking out a slightly heavy bag of trash. He’s on his tip-toes, flailing his hand around near the tall cabinet none of them can reach. He pouts at Yasha, who gives him a fond look and easily grabs the bag of Takis he’d squirreled away there. _God_ she is so hot and tall and inexplicably nice to Beau’s dumbass older sibling. Joke’s on Molly, anyway - Beau ate a handful when she got home an hour ago. Just climb up on the counter, idiot.

As soon as Yasha hands him his Takis, Molly slings his backpack over his shoulder and swans out of the kitchen. Yasha closes the fridge with two bottles of Beau’s lucky blue Gatorade tucked under her arm and follows him, and Beau trails after her.

Just before Molly heads upstairs, he grabs her arm. “Beau,” he murmurs. Yasha is fiddling with her backpack in the entryway, seemingly ignoring them. Probably just allowing Molly his privacy. She is _so nice._ “Do you... still have math tutoring tomorrow?”

Beau rolls her eyes. _“Yes,_ Caleb will be in our house, at our dining room table, teaching me about trigonometry, at 4 PM tomorrow afternoon, for you to awkwardly offer snacks to.”

She can see him physically restrain a smile as he tries to glare at her. “Good.” He lets go of her arm and starts to head upstairs, but then she grabs _his_ arm. _“What,_ Beau,” he sighs. Yasha looks up, curious.

She holds her palm out with an expectant look. “I flunked that quiz so he’ll do double sessions next week. Pay up.”

Molly stares at her. She glares back. Then he sighs, shoves his hand in his backpack, and pulls out the promised twenty bucks.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you,” she says with what she imagines to be a roguish grin, sticking the bill in her pocket. The stupid little flush on his cheeks and the visible annoyance about how he has to go through her to get at his crush (even though they share two classes, just _talk_ to him, Caleb is King Dweeb) is almost as good as the money. _Almost._

“Honestly, _you_ should be paying _me_ on a weekly basis, with all I do for you and your little infatuation,” Molly mutters. He cackles when Beau hisses _shut the fuck up!_ and dances away from her smacking hands, sauntering up the stairs to his room.

Yasha follows him. Beau is helpless to do anything but watch her go, drinking in every last second of seeing her before she and Molly lock themselves in his room listening to emo music and doing whatever it is goth theatre kids do in their downtime. She also guiltily glances at her butt, which is great, in Beau’s totally unbiased opinion.

At the second floor landing, Yasha turns a little and pauses, meeting her eyes. Beau realizes with a start and a flush that she’s been standing at the base of the stairs staring like a weirdo. _Fuck._

But then -- Yasha gives her a little smile and a nod. It’s a good thing Yasha goes into Molly’s room right after so she doesn’t witness Beau staggering to the couch with a really stupid smile contorting her face as stupid gay giggles threaten to overcome her.

She sinks down into the cushions, whipping out her phone so she can text Fjord about what just happened, because she has to tell _somebody_ and Fjord’s used to her rambling about Yasha and her little smiles and her hair and her biceps and _Yasha._

Hopefully he doesn’t relay it on to Jester during a water break or whatever. Do trombones and alto saxes have water breaks at the same time? Fuck if Beau knows how marching band works. The problem is Fjord folds like a wet kleenex under any amount of pressure from Jester, just like literally everyone who has ever met Jester. Guess Fjord will also be hearing about double tutoring sessions for Beau and double pining sessions for Molly next week - that should catch Jester’s attention more than _Yasha and her sharing the same favorite flavor of Gatorade and also Yasha knows what color her eyes are?_

She shovels a fistful of Doritos in her mouth, tapping away frantically at her phone with her free hand.

Everything’s coming up Beau.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hammered this out in a morning because i had to give the people beauyasha gatorade flirting.
> 
> basic info of this au: molly, beau, and jester are somehow siblings. don't question it. for some reason they were all adopted by gustav. molly and beau bicker familiarly like they do in canon, but neither can get _that_ mad at jester, even if it's the fifth time this month she's saran-wrapped the toilet. caleb and nott are also siblings. everyone has a nice and secure life and no troubles beyond the mundane, like being horribly into your lacroix-obsessed older sibling's best friend or your crush being your terrible younger sister's math tutor.
> 
> juniors: molly, yasha, caleb  
> sophomores: beau, fjord  
> freshmen: jester, nott
> 
> molly and yasha are goth theatre kids. beau does track since she's a jock but hates team sports and cooperation. marching band kids are caleb (clarinet), fjord (trombone), jester (alto sax), and nott (cymbals). caleb has a part time job through school where he tutors kids who need additional help in math, and molly and yasha know him through regular classes. molly makes cow eyes at him in physics. also, i didn't directly state it, but molly is nb in this fic!
> 
> big massive thanks to aggie ([@taahko](http://taahko.tumblr.com)) for developing this au with me, looking this fic over, and generally being a pal and playing a part in getting me into cr2! you rule dude!!
> 
> title is, of course, from the opening dialogue of [the music video for mcr's legendary jam "i'm not okay"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhZTNgAs4Fc) which itself is a high school au. did you know that liam and gerard way were born in the same town in new jersey within a year of each other? wild
> 
> [MY GOOD FRIEND AND CHAMPION WREN MOTHGEIST DREW FANART OF THIS!](http://mothgeist.tumblr.com/post/174363968751/please-read-this-incredible-fic) please go look at it because 1. it's incredible and great 2. you can get a sneak peek at the contents of the household's kitchen, consulted with and approved by me. protein powder.
> 
> find me on tumblr [@mollyglock](http://mollyglock.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@plounce](https://twitter.com/plounce)!


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